


Little Lady

by Hinaga_Moizaf



Category: Colby Brock - Fandom, Colby Brock/Sam Golbach - Fandom, Sam and Colby, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Mythology, Domestic Fluff, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff, Mythology References, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinaga_Moizaf/pseuds/Hinaga_Moizaf
Summary: You’re trapped in this miniature statue for years. During one of the boys’ supernatural outings, Colby accidentally damages you. Feeling bad and slightly interested, he takes you home to repair you. As he does, you slowly regain pieces of your humanity.
Relationships: Colby Brock & You, Colby Brock/Original Female Character(s), Colby Brock/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

Saying the world went on without you, is like saying the Moon offers the sky to the Sun at dawn. In fact, as long as Time itself existed, so have I in my frozen state. I’m sure I was once human; I have a distant memory of my life before this. Yet,as the decades pass me by like ashes in the wind; it all becomes hazy. As if any semblance of humanity I could have had, simply exists within a dream. Now I exist within a nightmare and I don’t have permission to wake up.

I can’t even begin to remember how I ended up like this. But if there’s anything for certain, it’s the sheer loneliness that envelops me. However the clouds gather or what little sunlight peeks through; I’m still standing in the same spot. I’ve had my share of visiting birds and the occasional jogger. Sometimes they’d stay with me for longer than 5 seconds and excitement fuels my cast stone veins. Then they’d leave, and as if Winter came early, my heart would shatter like ice.

To say I’m frustrated is an understatement, but what can I do? Nothing, literally nothing, I’m a miniature statue. I exist as an ornament stranded in the middle of nowhere; and I’ll remain that way even after the Sun dies out.

Until today.

The uproar of four men catches me off guard. The ground itself shakes and I just have to ponder: is it an earthquake? Not that that matters, I’ll still probably remain here as usual. These voices sound rather mature, as if they’re old souls facing the world. Yet, they also give off an element of youth; as if they just came back from Neverland. It’s weird, I know, to feel all these things from voices alone. But when something this strong comes at you, sometimes you just have to let the moment work itself out.

The first one comes as quick as lightning. The next one runs past me as if he’s made out of wind. The third boy slows down, but he picks up his pace. Then the last one appears, I catch only a glimpse of his ocean-blue eyes. Just as I’m about to take in the rest of him, he runs into me, I hear a crack.

Soon the crack becomes more, as the upper half of me falls off from the remaining statue; and the ocean eyed boy shouts a profanity.

“Colby? Dude, what’s wrong?” one of the boys rushes to his friend, he puts down a camera.  
“Oh my god, dude,I think I ran into-oh my god, Jake, I broke something!” Physically, I’m far from having a human body. But as the boy presumably named Colby picks me, for the first time since becoming a statue, I can feel warmth. It’s a bit strange and tingly, so I focus back on him. A bird shaped tattoo, fingers decorated in unique rings, his face painted with concern.

“Dude, we have to get out of here,” Jake shakes Colby, which in turn has me fearing I’ll be dropped. Instead, Colby holds onto me firmly.  
“I know, I know.Dude but-”  
“What even is that?” Jake interrupts as he eyes the bottom half of my structure.  
“Like I said, I ran into it...and I broke it,” for once, I hear a sliver of regret from a stranger, and it originates from the state of my ‘well-being’. Well, if you can call it that.  
“It’s not ours. Colby, dude, look I bet Sam and Corey are looking for us.”  
“Okay, okay, just give me..” with the speed of a hunted deer, Colby picks up the other part of me as Jake picks up the camera. I hear the shouting of presumably Sam and Corey, the boys quickly move on; with me joining them.

“What do you think it is?” Jake asks inbetween catching his breath.  
“I mean, it’s like a garden gnome...but also not ‘cause it’s smaller-”  
“And it’s not even a gnome,” Jake interrupts once more.  
“Yeah dude! It’s, it’s,” Colby takes a further inspection, if I had heart it’d be beating louder and faster than before, “I broke this little lady statue, and I’m going to fix her up.”

(A day later)  
“I mean, I can put her back together,” the shop owner gives me a thorough wipe before placing me on the countertop, “But that’s all I can do, son. I can’t tell who made her...when she was made, let alone say how much she’d cost in the market.”  
“Yeah,” Colby forces a chuckle, “I figured that.” As the shop owner quickly attends to another matter, I find myself lucky. True to his word (and not that he actually made a promise to me), Colby brought me back. Poor boy was absolutely clueless on how to piece me back together. Thankfully it’s only my top and bottom half that have been snapped in half; literally only two pieces. This clearly isn’t his level of expertise, so he did the next rational thing. 

The repair shop itself isn’t too bad either. Although it’s mostly rooted in clocks and small knick-knacks, there’s a place for a little ‘garden gnome’ like me. I can’t help but laugh at that pet name Colby has adopted. It’s endearing how it’s technically not what I am; but you can’t say I’m not it either. To be quite frank, I still struggle with that. Any and all memories of before becoming a statue are as scattered as a four-leafed clover; I’d be really lucky to find any. When I do, I’m holding onto that luck; but the one I have right now isn’t the worst thing either. 

“Guess it’s going to be you and I for a bit longer, little lady,” Colby whispers under his breath, I’m mildly startled. That’s another name he calls me, ‘little lady’. Although he only says it when it’s just the two of us. I don’t mind, it’s like our ‘little thing’. Well, minus the fact I’m a statue and he doesn’t know I actually exist with cognitive thoughts and such.

“Speaking of which, son, where’d you even get,” the shop owner wags his finger at me in confusion, “That?”  
“Oh, uh, my friends and I were out one night,” Colby hesitates with his answer, and I get it. It’s not easy explaining the ghost hunting and whole Youtube career either, I didn’t quite get it myself, “And, um, yeah...we found her out there...in the wild.”  
Colby flashes one of his signature smiles, it has a boyish charm to it. I thought I was the only one swooned, but the shop owner soon lets out a hearty laugh, “You don’t have to hear this from me, but just be careful out there. Who knows where she came from, or hell, what even made her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> If you've come this far, hope you enjoyed the fic <3  
> I usually write my own poetry and fantasy series over at Wattpad/Tumblr; so to say this is my first time writing fanfiction is an understatement haha.  
> I'm sorry if I got the characterisation of Colby wrong or used the wrong tags, this is all very new to me.  
> That being said I'm not quite sure where this story is heading. I started this to unwind from university & just wanted to have a bit of fun.  
> I'm open to criticism or any questions, hope you have a pleasant time ahead & stay hydrated xx
> 
> PS. I usually write up this stuff at 3 am, but I do try proofread


	2. Chapter 2

“...and give that ‘like button’ a lil’ ding, if you know what I’m saying…”

The distant sound of Colby finishing off one of his videos blurs out, I’ve become accustomed to it. Yet, even though I’ve been here for a couple of weeks, everything still sets off butterflies about in my stoney stomach. He, sets them off, and it’s like Spring has always sprung within me. After the repairs, Colby kept me as another knick-knack in his apartment, it could be worse. But it could also be better.

When he doesn’t have Sam or the boys over; Colby loses himself in editing his videos. Other times he’s just unwinding and scrolling through his phone. To be frank, it does get lonely when he leaves, he does have a life though. Sometimes he’s just in Jake’s apartment, and you can hear them boisterously shout from a mile away. Okay, these times aren’t that lonely. But there’s still a distance, and I honestly don’t know how to bridge that gap; I can’t. 

I wish I knew where I came from or why I’m stuck in a statue. But more so now, I wish I was human. I just know I once was one, but that’s as distant as I am with Colby. To really feel the touch of his rough skin, to feel chills down my spine as I feel his heavy breath. Every night when he goes to bed and shuts that door, I’m left alone in this empty apartment; with only the buzz of traffic and a few drunks to keep me company.

I wonder how he sleeps, I mean I’ve seen him take naps on the couch. But they’re just for a quick recharge, I wonder if he talks in his sleep. I wonder about this because..sometimes I hear him; I hear Colby talk when he should be asleep. True, he could just be playing a video or on a call with someone. However, he doesn’t sound rational; it sounds like he’s lost and looking for help. He sounds like me when I was alone, hell, I still feel alone. If it’s a bad dream, it’s rather recurrent; what’s troubling him?

We’re so close, yet I can’t do anything to help him.

“Yeah, yeah, just bring it around...um, I’d say four,” he starts his daily call, it’s unpredictable what he gets up too. Lately, it sounds like he’s making plans for a move of some sort; there are boxes scattered in his apartment. That makes it a bit more hollow, this place I’ve just grown accustomed to; it’s going to be gone. It makes me worry (and I don’t really have the right to worry), will Colby take me with him? Or am I going to be left here, mourning over a relationship that never happened.   
“Oh right, right. Listen, I told you about that statue, right?” my solid ears perk up, this is new, “I’ll send over a few pics in a bit. But dude, it’s really like nothing I’ve seen before.”

He continues his call, completely unaware of me; but I couldn't be more interested in him and the conversation.No, hold yourself together, you’re just a statue.

Colby makes his way towards me, I’m trying to stay calm. I watch him open the camera on his phone, his eyebrows furrowed. It’s that look again, when he’s planning on a video idea or trying to figure something out. I know I’m no rubik's cube, but what has him so puzzled? His front door swings open as Sam dangles a pair of keys.  
“Dude, you said you’d be ready in 15 minutes,” Sam says playfully, but I sense a sliver of annoyance, “What’s the hold up?”  
“Oh, sorry about that, man. I was just-”  
“Is this about the statue?” Sam makes his way and I hold my breath, “It’s not going away.”  
“Yeah, I know that, it’s a damn statue. It’s just,” Colby takes a seat, suddenly his ocean-blue eyes are drained of its rich colours and he fiddles with his phone, “I can’t stop thinking about...her. And I feel bad leaving her alone.”  
“Okay, let’s take a step back,” his best friend leans against the kitchen counter, his eyes full of concern yet firm, “We, or rather you, found it when we were out ghost hunting. I don’t want to say there’s a connection, but something’s up.”  
“And that’s the thing, dude!” Colby gets on his feet and takes a good look at me before facing Sam. It was quick, but I felt the intensity of a thousand lightning bolts hit me at once. 

“Like, I shouldn’t be spending all my time thinking about her. I mean, you know I still get on with my day. Editing videos, hanging with you guys,hitting the gym. That’s all good,” Colby crosses his arms and I’m mesmerised once more. They’re not all visible at once, but I’m always drawn to his tattoos. I don’t know the stories behind them all; but I’m sure they must mean something for him to ink them on his skin.

The weirdest part is, they remind me of something from my past. But that something is as clear as mudded waters, I really have to swim through to get answers.

“You know what,” Colby puts on a smile and side glances at me, “You’re right, dude, we’ve got to get going. Sorry about this, Sam.”  
“Nah, dude, it’s cool,” as they walk out, I’m already counting down to when he’ll come home. But that’s as beneficial as waiting for snow to fall in the Summer, “Just...let’s get your mind off things for tonight, Colby.”


	3. Chapter 3

I thought there was enough mystery in my life.

I find myself not in Colby’s apartment, but a garden in the peak of summer. The heat is unbearable,but there’s a comforting breeze coming from the willow trees. I blink in disbelief and the scenery won’t go away, the emerald grass stretches itself into a field. I listen to the gentle running of water from a nearby creek, doves go about their day. Then finally, an assortment of flowers and attack of colours has me mesmerised. I could just fall asleep, this is all too serene. 

“M’lady?” I’m startled by a familiar voice. I take a quick scan of the area, I’m only seeing snow-white lilies upon lilies.  
“Who is it?” I stagger in my place, my eyes only see another bush of the freshest carnations neatly lined up.  
“M’lady,” a figure appears from a stone-built maze, “Do you not recognise me?”

With the Sun’s rays shining so bright, I adjust my sight once more. He appears in haze, but the more he moves, the clearer he becomes. I have to hold my breath at this realisation.

A young man of considerable height, his body well-built and clad in renaissance attire. His locks a shade of dark chocolate, a few stray strands elegentaly fall on his well-defined face. As if we were meeting again, his ocean eyes lock onto mine. They’re bluer than any real ocean, and clearer than a sun-lit sky.  
“...Colby?” the way his name leaves my lips, for the first time ever, feels so strange. He thinks so too, for he wears a puzzled look.

“Coal...bee? M’lady, are you ill?” who I thought was Colby asks me,and now I’m questioning myself. He looks like Colby, sounds like Colby, moves like Colby- what’s going on? An uncomfortable amount of silence passes before he offers his hand, “Whatever you are experiencing, we must act fast. Please, M’lady, I’ll take you to a sheltered area and have a drink.” 

So I took his hand, and I swear, an inked bird flew off his skin. He pays no attention to it, maybe he didn’t even notice it, but we start walking. As sweat beads form on the nape of my neck, there’s a puddle forming at the palm of our hands. I hope he doesn’t notice, or he’s too polite. As Colby, yes it’s Colby, faces forward; I take in this moment. I didn’t even realise I have the body of a real human girl, with the voice of one to freely speak with too. Am I finally human again? But what’s the explanation for all of this?

“You had me worried there, M’lady,” although his voice is as deep as the canyons, Colby continues to speak to me ever so gently. As if he’s whispering, but it’s still so clear and loud, “You were gone, and I did not know what I’d do to myself…”

We stop, and once more Time comes to a halt. It’s kinder this time, and I wish I could remain eternally here; now with him. As he bites his lower lip, he soon purses them. Colby takes in a deep breath, still holding onto my hand as if there’s no tomorrow; he slowly rests it onto his chest. Just where his heart-shaped tattoo would be, I feel his heartbeat and it sends shivers down my spine. Centuries worth of intense emotions are caught in between these beats, and they remain there for us to intimately share. Colby and I lock eyes once more, the colours are being drained again.

“...I do not know what I’d do with myself if I lost you.”  
“COLBY-GET-UP. We have a merch shoot!” 

I’m brought back to the 21st century, back to an LA apartment, back in the statue.

“I said, in a second! I’ll get us there on time!” Colby shouts from his bathroom, the sound of a hairdryer echoing. As he emerges, my heart stops. It was him, without a doubt. But how?  
“Goddamn, what’s happening, brutha?” Corey appears at the door, leaning against the frame and mockingly pointing at a watch that’s not even there.  
“I’m sorry, I’M SORRY,” Colby rushes past me, as he does, I swear our eyes meet, “I had, um...a pretty weird dream. And I kinda remember most of it.”


	4. Chapter 4

The evening light gently finds its way through the curtains, it settles on what it can find and casts its shadows. Sometimes Colby forgets to turn on the lights when it’s clearly going to be night soon, this is one of those times. I’m not complaining though, a certain mood is set under all this darkness,with only his laptop screen to brighten up the place.

He’s on a video call with one of his cousins. From what I’ve heard, it’s for a school project,they’re assigned to research any well known relatives and their achievements. It’s endearing, although they’re not face to face,I can just hear his cousin talk to him with such pride and respect. Likewise, Colby is quite good with kids, makes me wonder what he’ll be like as a father. I can only hear them talk,in between all the laughs and off topic conversations; you can tell this is one hell of a family. ‘The Brocks’, just imagine being one.

“So, uh, Carter,” there’s a certain raspiness to Colby’s voice tonight, somewhat strange, as if he has a cough but he’s perfectly fine as far as I can see.He starts to fiddle with his weird and cracks out a nervous laugh, “Found anything juicy about a great-great-great uncle or something? Something spicey about our family history?”    
“Oh, besides you getting arrested?” I can’t quite see the screen, but I have a feeling Carter’s rolling his eyes.   
“Hey there, buddy, we had a-”   
“Yeah, yeah. Chill, Colby. I won’t actually include that in my project...not when the whole world already knows about it,” he whispered the last part as Colby playfully mimicked him. “Oh! There was this guy...give me a sec.” 

The light from his laptop quickly flashes into a different colour, Colby’s face swiftly paints itself a new expression. He leans back deeper into his chair, blinking in what seems to be disbelief. Colby reaches for his can of White Claw and cracks it open, the sound of it echoing through the apartment. As if we were psychically linked, Colby looks in my direction and raises an eyebrow bemusingly. In the dark of the ever growing night, his ocean-blue eyes shine like a pair of moons. In its own beautiful way, they’re also as bright as the sun, but I won’t burn myself by getting too close.

Besides, getting close isn’t even an option.

“Colbs, you there?” Carter asks as Colby leans forward.

“Yeah, yeah, dude...sorry, what were you saying?” he returns back to the conversation, as if he was just in a trance.   
“So like...there was a great-great-great, you get me a lot more ‘greats’...grandpa, or was it uncle? Anyway, man’s was pretty cool, he was an inventor of sorts. I’ll show you what he did, real successful, guy was bawling! Only thing,” Carter’s voice trails off, as concern is expressed through Colby’s eyebrows, “He got this girl knocked up. Like, that ain’t cool today too, but back then this really turned his life from a hundred to a zero-”

  
  


A shiver runs down my spine as I find myself bundled up under layers of tattered blankets and oversized jackets, next to me is a basin of water and steam. Just as it was in LA, wherever I’m at now, it’s nighttime. My eyes are immediately drawn to this enormous window, touching the ceiling and spreading itself to the floor. At the foot of it there stands a male figure. I try to adjust my eyes yet I have a gut feeling of who it is. Near the nape of his neck there’s a fresh scar, it’s in the shape of a ‘X’.

An unknown, nauseating sensation stirs within me and I moan. As quick as a sun’s kiss during the summer, the male figure immediately turns and rushes to my side. Without exchanging any words, he swiftly dabs a piece of cloth into the basin and places it on my forehead, slowly making his way down my face. The heat spreads as I find myself releasing droplets of sweat. Yet, I also find comfort from this warmth, as if it really is a kiss from the sun.

Without realising it, the young man is helping me sit up ever so gently. The feeling of his hand supporting my lower back and shoulders is what I’d imagine having strong roots is like; and all the while this is happening, his ocean eyes are focused at my stomach area. 

I have to reason to believe he’s looking at something deeper.

Another foreign sensation causes me to wail in pain as he softly takes one of my hands; while also working on placing the water soaked cloth onto the lowest part of my abdomen. 

“Breathe,” his voice is like honey dripped onto an apple, “You’re doing so well, take one deep breath in…” as he gives me comforting words, I find myself lost in the moment.

I find myself drifting in and out of reality. Yet, the pain is enough to draw me back like an arrow. I’m waiting to be released and make the shot, but it doesn’t happen just yet. It doesn’t happen because I also find myself fighting against a tempestuous ocean, mercilessly pushed in every direction as I struggle to keep my head afloat. Yet, each time I feel like I’m about to drown, he catches me in a heartbeat. For a moment, I find security as I meet his eyes; and I remember how the ocean was once a shade of blue only rivaled by the sky. I find myself believing just as we’re in the eye of the storm, it will pass as all things do in nature; and we will breathe once more.

I open my mouth to whisper his name, but I soon look like a fish with its mouth agape. He fetches me some water to drink and I gingerly chug it down. I get the pattern now, these men I’m meeting, they must be  _ him _ from a previous life. In this case, it’s the relative Carter was just talking about. It’s all just speculation, but now I’m questioning  _ why _ is it happening? Has Fate planned for something greater, something rooted in time for Colby and I?

“My love,” I muster what energy I have and caress his face, his skin so soft yet soiled by ash and dirt, “This baby, I just...there must be-”   
Suddenly the world goes darker and quieter, yet I feel an overwhelming sense of warmth spread through my entire being.The Colby from this life places a kiss on my forehead. It lands like a butterfly, and the way it falls down my skin is like cherry blossom petals; I can feel the colour rushing back to my cheeks. As smoothly as possible, he pulls me into an embrace; and the world is beautiful once more. This Colby rubs my back, then to the hum of a foreign yet comforting lullaby; he rocks our baby and I.

“We’ve talked about this, and what I said to you that first night is as true as ever,” he draws back and I’m met with his eyes. They’re a marriage of the deepest of oceans and the clearest of skies, when man first made art; they never realised what would come from oneself, “ _ We _ are keeping this baby, he or even she will be born. My colleague will sneer and your family can keep their curses; but I know we can make this work. All the riches nor fame could ever amount to the love I have for you; it’ll burn throughout winter and all year round. Even when Death knocks on my door, I will find a way to meet our little family over and over again; I promise to take care of you in this life and all that comes after.”

  
  
“...Colby? Do you need a doctor?” Carter’s voice is like a mist in the background. If I could produce tears, they’d form its own ocean; but it’ll never rival the shade of his eyes. This is when I realise, _nothing_ could rival Colby in this life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> So this chapter took quite a while to write & as a whole I may not upload as frequently as I used to.  
> Basically it's a mixture of uni work & my own personal 'troubles' with the coronavirus (hope y'all are staying safe & sending prayers). I started this fic to kinda relieve stress, so we'll see how this goes xx


	5. Chapter 5

"...yeah, yeah...I know what Carter said...No, listen, I'm okay...Hey, if it's really serious, I'll go see a professional…"

Colby's been on the phone with his parents after his first 'blackout' with an audience. Even though it's an occurrence completely out of my control, and I still have so many questions about myself- I feel utterly guilty for getting him involved.

Police sirens attack my ears in every direction. I’ve fallen in an alleyway, my back soaked in a puddle and untreated cuts all over my body like constellations. There’s an unusual weight on my wrist; lifting it up I find...a handcuff?

“Bring out the hounds!” a familiar voice roars through the city, “Send in more men too!”  
“I saw her going in this direction!” a stranger shouts from around the corner. I don’t need to stay to know where this is going. Mustering what strength I have, I violently push up; now I’m left with a bloodrush and find I have a limping leg. The sound of more policemen becomes louder than thunder, I have to make a run for it. I try to see what’s around me, this alleyway seems to go on but there’s a turn.

Hoping for the best, I do what I can. A cat screams from encountering an unknown visitor, that gave me a heart attack; but it also probably gave away my location. Picking up my pace, I lean against a brick wall and am soon met with an overwhelming stench from the sewers. Each step more agonising than the last. Without realising it, I stomped on glass and immediately winced. I might be in a rush but I have to be careful too.

“Freeze!” The Colby from this lifetime has caught me off guard, “You have the right to remain silent.”

Slowly turning away, my breathing picks up. I feel lightheaded and my hands start to shake. I don’t even know what was my crime, that’s the worst part. I start at his feet, at his worn out boots. Making my way up, his navy, torn up pants. The further I go up, there’s a utility belt and the more I go, sure enough; the remaining policeman uniform. He even has a bulletproof vest. Then finally, the face I’ve grown to adore. He wears a serious expression, a trickle of blood on his side and some dirt on the cheeks; but those eyes tell a different story. I focus on his name sewn on, ‘Officer Brock’. 

I didn’t even realise he had a gun in hand. But with much hesitance, he lowers it and comes over. Once again, his eyes do the talking. Dark circles beneath them, they’re bloodshot red; and from a mile away you can see the pain he carries.  
“You know under any other circumstance, I would never do this to you,” his gaze unwavering, his voice clearer than a Summer’s day, “But I have a job to do.”  
This is the first time in these ‘dreams’ I can confidently say his name, “...Officer Brock.”  
“Don’t!” I’ve broken him, this Colby sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, “You promised, when it’s just the two of us...you’d never call me that.” 

My knees grow weak as my vision goes blurry. As if on instinct, Officer Brock holds me by the elbow; his other hand with the bird shaped tattoo gently lifts my chin up.  
“Look at me,” he begs, the sound of the city fading out in the background.  
“I am…,” I finally have a moment of solace, “I always have.”  
“I’m going to have to put you behind bars, but once you’re out,” Officer Brock nervously looks around, then starts to properly handcuff me. He leans in, as close as humanly possible, and whispers, “My uncle has a couple of holiday homes back in South Asia. He hardly goes to any of them at this age, but he’s always encouraging my cousins and I to go blow off some steam there.” 

He places his fingers on mine, slowly interlocking them like entangled vines. A pack of barking hounds go off from a nearby street; more policemen shouting and receiving orders. 

“-once you’re out,” he collects himself, his rough fingers trembling, “Don’t go back to your apartment. Head straight to your neighbourhood park, the one where we had...our first date,” Officer Brock’s grip tightens, it’s as if I’m about to lose blood circulation. But I honestly don’t mind, I know he’s only scared; I reassure him with a few strokes and he does loosen, “I’ll be waiting for you, I’ll have a new passport and credit card ready, everything.Before hand I’ll book a flight and...and we’ll settle down, finally. I’ll send in my resignation letter soon, we’ll find better jobs. And when the time is right, we can start that-”

I stop him with a look of compassion. A single tear rolls onto his face and I kiss it away. I rest my head onto his chest, it feels so strange with the vest and everything.  
“Don’t let me hold you back, Brock. You go live the life you deserve; and I’ll carve my own path without worrying you.”  
He lifts up my face for what feels like the last time, and says as loud as he can, “You broke your promise again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's shorter than usual (whoops), so I might edit & rework it soon.  
> I think I'm going to end this fic soon, I've had the ending planned since the beginning.
> 
> In one of their ghost hunting videos, Colby was told he's lived through 21 lives; and while working on this I was like woahh I could write something based on that. Alas, with university & some major changes in my personal life; I don't think I can deliver on that.
> 
> But I've had an absolute blast writing this, and who's to say I can't revisit it in the future xx


	6. Chapter 6

The sound of a chisel working against stone echoes in this somber chamber. Wait, chamber? My eyes adjust to the scene as I take in everything. My stomach growls while my joints ache, the weight of a thousand years worth of worry is dropped upon me at once.A hole no bigger than a child is found on the wall, leaving in a draft and minimal light. It’s not quite a surprise to come across Colby in a different lifetime anymore. But it is a surprise to get to know him, what he is like in this life; and what’s our relationship like. 

He stands haggard beside a...statue, working on it with great momentum. His clothes are covered in dust as his skin is stained by a paint of sorts. Collected at his feet are broken pieces of jagged stones and what I assumed are ‘failed’ statues. Nearby is a pitcher of water and barrels labeled with food. Something that didn’t catch my attention before and has me startled; resting soundly in one corner, is a black wolf with bejeweled crown sitting on its back. 

I make an earnest attempt to get up, and get to know him.

“...Sir Brock?” I couldn’t have been louder than a whisper, but he stops dead in his tracks before begrudgingly putting down his tools.   
“You said were going to sleep,” his voice raspy and a hint of annoyance.  
“Then perhaps I simply woke up,” leaning against the cobbled wall, I’ve never felt this cold. My eyes drift to the statue, this could be my one chance of understanding everything, “What are you making?”  
He muffles a laugh and runs his fingers through his hair, a tango of hazel and dark chocolate. Our eyes meet for a heartbeat, and the way they shine in this dark chamber is like meeting the Moon. Sir Brock makes his way towards me, as if he is made of blushing roses and soft feathers, the touch of his fingers caressing my cheek has me under a spell. 

“You didn’t answer me,” I resist and push my shoulders back. With a look of melancholy, he presses his forehead against mine.  
“You’re not her, or at least, you’re not the version of her I fell in love with in this lifetime,” mesmerised by his deep voice, I forget to breathe. My senses heighten and Sir Brock suddenly becomes the centre of my universe, “My descendants sure are lucky bastards, they get to fall in love with you over and over again. I only have this lifetime, and it’s running out soon.”   
“Then would you care to tell me,” I’m careful with my words, it’s as if I’ve been waiting for this moment for an eternity, “Just what’s going on, and what will happen to me? Or rather, what I’ve been going through?” 

“Based on that alone,” he pulls back and we have a moment of comfortable silence, “I take you’ve met the Brocks that come after me. Particularly-”  
“Colby,” I cut him short and he looks confused, “That’s the first one of your descendants I’m with now, the first one I can recall meeting,” I point at the statue, “The one I fell in love with while existing as that.”  
“I didn’t mean to give you such a torturous life,” Sir Brock plays with my hair and fiddles with my fingers, “But it’s the best one I could have given us, for a way we’ll run into each other for 21 lifetimes.”   
“How is this all possible?” my question lingers in the air like smoke, almost suffocating me, “Just who are you?”

“You were right to call me ‘Sir Brock’,” he turns away to stare at the hole in the wall, “But I’ve made a grave mistake that’ll soon strip me of this title,” he falls to his knees and I attempt to pull him back up, but he stays, gripping onto me as if I’ll slip right out like sand, “And I can’t protect you anymore in this life. So I won’t, but I can in others.”  
I pat his messy hair and plant a kiss on the top of his head, “You already have, and you’re so brilliant at it. Sometimes I get such an overwhelming heartache from having to part with one of your descendants. But then I meet another, and I get to relive it all over, it becomes as natural as the Moon rising after the Sun sets,” I choke back a sob, “Everything’s like the most vivid summer dream, some days I couldn’t bear to wake up from.” 

“How does he treat you?” Sir Brock lifts his head and looks at me with unwavering passion, “How does Colby treat you, my lady?”  
“He is kind and fills my days with laughter,” I begin reminiscing, strange, “He picked me up when no one else would. Tried mending me when he thought he broke me,” tears start to trickle out of my eyes, “I’d say it's the most alive I’ve felt, truly. Of course, I’m just a statue. But I think he knows, he has a feeling, deep down I’m actually a lady. And Colby Brocks treats his lady with only the utmost care.”

“Dude, Sam, I can hear her talking,” the Colby I was just fondly talking of leans in, his ocean blue eyes watering with realisation; just as the entire world turns a blinding white.

( A period of time later)  
As the last customer leaves and the bell tolls, I collapse into my seat. What a day, I’m so knackered, I can barely lift a finger. The street lights of Los Angeles start to turn on, illuminating the bookshop. Dust dances about in the air as soft shadows are casted, I catch my breath. My eyes linger on the cashier as the door opens unexpectedly, the bell tolls once more.

“I’m sorry but we’re closed for the day,” my eyes adjust to the unknowing customer, “We’ll be open tomorrow by 9.”  
“Please, please, I’ll only take a moment of your time,” he begs with a voice I could fall asleep with. I look him in the eye, and I’m met by the most gorgeous shade of blue I’ve been robbed of until known, “I know I’m being rude, but it’ll really only be a second.”

He places a tattered notebook on the counter, I take notice of a bird-shaped tattoo.  
“I’ve been going into shop after shop, hit up all the websites too,” his voice tells of desperation and I really look at him. His hair’s a shade of blue darker than his eyes, but nevertheless so beautiful.“Nothing, I’m going insane. This is my last resort.”  
I pick up the notebook and skim through it. All I’m seeing are scribbled notes and crossed out names. A few that suggest a sliver of hope, but he wouldn’t be here if that were the case, “What are you looking for?”  
“It’s called ‘Dreams of a Sealed Soul’, basically I had this statue and well...it’s complicated. But I’ve been dying to find out where it comes from. Apparently this book tackles with that sort of some, some mythology I don’t-”  
“We don’t...have that here,” I clutch at my chest, what is this? He immediately stops and rubs my back, somewhat offering comfort as he dials for an ambulance, “ Don’t, I’m good.” And I am, truly. He looks at me with concern and I flash a smile, “ Like I said, thanks anyway, we don’t have that title here. Seeing as you’ve been through hell and back, we can try to get in contact with our supplier. They’re really into some niche stuff, so your book must exist somewhere,” I settle into my seat once more and pull out my own notebook, “Name, please? Just in case we do find it, and we know it’s you and all that jazz.”

“Um, yeah, I’ll get you some water soon,” he awkwardly mutters that before nervously taking back his notebook, “Brock, Colby Brock.”


End file.
